vivakresh's review against another edition
5.0
I always end up with a not-unpleasant ache when I read Jill McDonough’s poems. The titles are ALL amazing, irreverent and pithy, sharp and colloquial. My favorites surprised me and made me laugh out loud, and some of the poems felt so real, the lines and language so spot on, I had to close the book for a day to get my head to stop spinning. “In which I am accused of sleeping my way to the top” — nails the hilarity and ridiculousness with a perfect ending! “Ming” totally deserves the Pushcart prize, but I have to admit I didn’t realize how good it was until the second or third read — something about how it circles around (“this endless loop”) and how it creates a lesson for us all out of a particular event and a particular person’s life (“the instant the Ming first leans...you gain a week”). Selfishly, I’d love to place my poem “My Utopia” on a page opposite Jill’s “Also, homemade flamethrowers,” which both imagine a perfect world where people read a lot of books and are thus whole and happy. But hers involves zombies, so it’s much better. :)
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